PS 3537 
N?3 H5 



A 




Class _J^ 



Rnok .Nz^ H6 






COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



THE HIDDEN GARDEN 



THE HIDDEN GARDEN 

by 



FLORENCE D. SNELLING 



BOSTON 

THE RANGER COMPANY 
1916 



A 









Copyright, 1915 by 

ifj THE RANGER COMPANY 
r^ BOSTON 



APR -5 1916 

OCU428395 



vS) 



r^ 



^ 



^^<r 



vj 



For permission to reprint several 
of the verses included in this 
volume, thanks are due the editors 
of The Atlantic Monthly, The 
Century, Ainslee's Magazine, The 
Outlook and The Christian Register, 




TF I should wind the clocks 
And set the shutters wide, 
She might return, house, 
Forgetting she had died. 

If on the ash-strewn hearth, 
Where her heart made it home, 
I lit again the fire, 
To my heart she might come. 



And in the silent rooms 
If I should dare to sing. 
Herself within the song 
Might give me comforting. 



ORDER OF VERSES 

I. The Plan 

II. The Undesired Days 

III. Neighbors 

IV. The Window and the Lane 
V. There's a moon now-a-nights 

VI. Her Mirror 
VII. Life's ecstacy 
VIII. Love is the day 
IX. UnHke as the lark 
X. The Hidden Garden 
XL Morning 
XII. If resurrection mornings are like 
this 

XIII. I trembled at the threshold 

XIV. Still is the deepest joy 
XV. The hour that quickeneth 

XVI. Flood-tide 

XVII. Love's wise unreason brings 
XVIII. Thou shalt not guess 
XIX. The Approach 
XX. The Hours 
XXI. Love as a candle white 
XXII. Parting 
XXIII. As little could avail 
XXIV. Hope 



XXV. 


The Out-going 


XXVI. 


Lord Love, heed Thou my 




prayer 


XXVII. 


Respite 


XXVIII. 


Need went out a-seeking 


XXIX. 


Eager is the crowded mart 


XXX. 


Upon my hearth I found a fire 


XXXI. 


I dared to think it mine alone 


XXXII. 


Enter not no w ! I would prepare 




some place 


XXXIII. 


Lest I too deep within his soul 




had seen 


XXXIV. 


Tribute 


XXXV. 


The Victor 


XXXVI. 


In Passing 


XXXVII. 


Annunciation 


^XXVIII. 


^oy tangled up the weaving 




thread 


XXXIX. 


Hush not, bird, for fear I 




guess 


XL. 


The Inland Road 


XLI. 


When we have ceased to long 




for spring 


XLII. 


The Sudden Hour 


XLIII. 


Tomorrow and tomorrow 




stretch before 


XLIV. 


Love said the perfect word 


XLV. 


Once, while the unknown road 



XL VI. Older than Omar's long-spent 
spring 
XLVII. The East Wind 
XLVIII. A little while the storm we 
share 
XLIX. The wind that stirs the clover- 
tops 
L. Whither, O western wind 
LI. Between low banks the brook 

flows on 
LIT The Path 
LIII. The burden of the heat upon 

me lay 
LIV. The Pleasant Field 
LV. Somewhere our sunset makes 
the morn 
LVI. The year fulfilled, unsorrowing 
LVII. November 

LVIII. Nature wearying of blossoms 
LIX. Loss 

LX. Winter Rain 
LXI. Now is earth's day far spent 
LXII. This a thought at summer's 

end 
LXIII. Love is long though Time has 

wings 
LXIV. This is the way the morning 

came 
LXV. A Demand 



LXVI. The world is all unworthy of 

its June 
LXVII. Gift and giver, Love, thou art 
LXVIII. Secrets 
LXIX. Valentines 
LXX. See, the limits of the nest 
LXXI. A Rebuke 
LXXII. Ah, it is poverty indeed 
LXXIII. A Memory 
LXXIV. The Dark Sea 
LXXV. Distances 
LXX VI. Voiceless the solitudes that 

intervene 
LXXVIL How far is it from heart to 

heart 
LXXVIIL The Memorial by F. 
Duveneck 
LXXIX. Prayer 
LXXX, Unfathomed space 
LXXXL Te Deum Laudamus 
LXXXIL We measure off God's wide 

eternity 
LXXXin. Build as we may we shall not 

reach the sky 
LXXXIV. "I will not lose Thee, Lord," 
I cried 
LXXXV. So wide the sky 

LXXXVL Elusive 



LXXXVII. Dreams 
LXXXVIII. The Travelers 
LXXXIX. As to deep notes of music 
XC. A White Moment 
XCI. Little Questions, you are 

blind 
XCII. To Clement of Alexandria 
XCIIl. Laborers 

XCIV. A barren little muse, De- 
cember born 
XCV. Life 
XCVI. A Reminder 
XCVIL October clover 
XCVIIL I planned to help the sun 
arise 
XCIX. At Sunrise in December 

C. " Fear no more the heat 

o' the sun" 
CL "With what body do they 
come ? " 
CIL The Strong Soul 
CIIL **Mine hour is not yet come'' 
CIV. Fhght 
CV. Light-heart, how well do 
I remember thee 
CVI. Cold keen wind from the 

northwest blowing 
CVI I. Sunlight in the Room 
CVIII. The Witnesses 
CIX. Songs at the spring 



I. 

THE PLAN 

TO build the year with all things beau- 
tiful, 
Then bid them by strange ways to cease to 

be: 
To smite the land with whirlwind and with 
frost; 

To lay earth's loveliness as low as earth; 
To blur all color, and to mar all form; 
To still the song; at last to seal with snow; 
Thus to undo the perfect work of life; 
And then to build anew, by blade and leaf, 
Blossom and fruit and scent and sound and 

song 
Another year for self -same harvesting, — 
This is the Plan by which are magnified 
The Power and the Wisdom of the Lord. 



II 

THE UNDESIRED DAYS 

UNDAUNTED spring, with strong up- 
surging sap, 
And tender leaf, and eager, untried wing. 
With lengthening and undesired days, 
Divides the old sweet time forever done 
From this, when all of life-long dread comes 

true. 
Yet have I found amid the meagre hours 
A solitary gift the lavish spring 
Withholds, and I would tell to timid bird 
And trembling leaf and blossom that must 

fade. 
That there shall come a time without a fear, 
When neither darkness nor unclouded noon 
Can strike with ancient terror the new 

peace. 



4 



III. 

NEIGHBORS 

THROUGH windows three the Night 
looks in; 
Lighted the room 
By lamps that bum unflickering 
Against the gloom. 

The Dark my nightly neighbor is, 

Ever at gaze, 
Peering as though in wonderment 

At my strange ways. 

The Wind knows many tongues ; tonight 

Through windows three 
A tale of the uprising tide 

It brings to me; 

While I between the little lamps 

That stand on guard, 
Watch Neighbor Dark and, wondering, 

Hear the Wind's word. 



IV. 
THE WINDOW AND THE LANE 

FOR the dear feet returning 
That will not come again, 
Dear eyes that now are darkened 
Watched at this window-pane. 
Little, expectant window. 
Watch thou the empty lane ! 



V 



THERE *S a moon now-a-nights 
shining on the Httle cove, 
And a wind blowing in from the sea; 
There's a tide leaping higher, 

wave by wave of crystal fire, 
Up the rock where two used to be. 

Other Heart, dost thou know? 

Other Heart, dost thou love? 
Other Heart, dost thou hear and see? 
Where the waters flow white, 

there's a voice in the night 
Crying out, Other Heart, to thee. 



VI. 
HER MIRROR 

O WASTEFUL mirror, hadst thou kept 
but one 
Of all the dear reflections of her face, 
What treasure mine these many empty 
days 
Wherethrough, alone, I seek from sun to 

sun 
That which is now forever more undone. 
Nor dwells in anything nor any place ! 

Yet, didst thou hold what all earth else hath 
not, 
O mirror; if I found her only there, 
Unchanging, fixed in thy insensate 
care, — 
Found her, — long sought, long-sought! 
Then would I shatter thee that so didst 

dare! 
My jealous heart her semblance will not 

share; 
My unf orgetting heart — -no otherwhere — 
Her world; — a deeper thought within my 
thought. 



8 



VII. 

LIFE'S ecstacy 
In pain has proof; 
Life's agony — 
Love knows thereof I 



VIII. 

LOVE is the day 
In which we wake, 
For whose dear sake 
Dark flees away. 

Love is the night 
Wherein we sleep, 
The wider deep 

That circles light. 



10 



IX. 

UNLIKE as the lark 
And the thrush — 
Hark ! 
Hush ! 
The word of the skies 
East and west — 
Rise ! 
Rest. 



11 



X. 

THE HIDDEN GARDEN 

THE garden walls are high; 
And yet, year after year, 
Beloved passerby, 

What time thou drawest near, 

Quick stirs the old surmise; 

And punctual blossoms greet 
Thy dear unheeding eyes, 

And thy unpausing feet. 



12 



XL 
MORNING 

TO the valley-meadow 
Came the day : 
Where the night-long shadow 
Deepest lay 

Low the clouds were leaning, 

Till a lark 
Woke to tell the meaning 

Of the dark. 



13 



XII. 



IF resurrection mornings are like this 
How good to rise ! 
Immortal as the quickened grass beneath 
These April skies ! 



Love's fashion glad, that older is than 
death, 
Clothes life anew; 
Earth wakes in sudden beauty, and my 
heart 
Again holds you. 



14 



XIII. 

I TREMBLED at the threshold ere I 
went 
To mate my soul with thine; 
But broken is the Bread at Sacrament 
And measured is the Wine; 
So are we safe in the divine excess 
Of blessedness. 



15 



XIV. 

STILL is the deepest joy. I have no 
word. 
How put within the compass of a thought 
This that thy spirit to my spirit brought, 
Unsought, unseen, unheard ! 

Tomorrow it may be that I will speak- 
So soon in us the lesser thing finds 

place — 
But for today — unutterable grace, 

A silence naught shall break. 



16 



T 



XV. 

HE hour that quickeneth 
To life from death,— 
This, out of all Time gave, 
Alone we save. 



17 



XVI. 
FLOOD-TIDE 



OLIFE, thou hast no bond of time or 
place 
For souls akin! 
The little barriers of the lowlands break, 
The tide comes in ! 



If there are valleys down beneath the sea 

They hidden lie ; 
And earth, her lesser self awhile forgot. 

Reflects the sky. 



18 



XVIL 

LOVE'S wise unreason brings 
Thee all my treasured things, 
Thou mayest choose to leave 
Or take, but I must give. 

For when the new command 
Shall stay my emptied hand, 
How bear my penury 
Had I kept aught from thee ? 



19 



XVIII. 

THOU Shalt not guess 
From whence this awful tide of 
blessedness, 
But thou shalt say: 
**0 life is good today! 
Pleasant the bounteous grass 
Through which I pass, 
And gladdening the presence of the child 
That looked on me and smiled.'' 
God and one heart beside 
Know whence the tide. 



20 



XIX. 
THE APPROACH 

THE day fails in the sky; 
The dark comes up the sea; 
A fear enmeshes me 
Because the night is nigh. 

Alert, I watch the change: 
The sifted shadow falls; 
A bird, unanswered, calls; 

A star wakes, white and strange. 



21 



XX. 
THE HOURS 

NIGHT-LONG the beating of the sea 
Upon my heart. 
In its unending Htany 
My voiceless part. 

Beseechings inarticulate, 

That ebb and flow, 
Some power to propitiate, 

Averting woe. 

Later, a moon fantastic, lit 

With silver flame; 
Then a white morn, that pursued it 

And overcame. 



22 



XXI. 

LOVE as a candle white 
Wars with the night, 
Piercing a path, a guard 
With slender sword; 

Trembles at touch of dawn 
Dims, and is gone, — 
One with the Light of Light, 
Victor of night. 



23 



XXII. 
PARTING 

LOVE breaks the barrier that keeps 
Thee close in love's caress, — 
So stern is love, the while it weeps 
In sudden wistfulness. 



24 



XXIII. 

As little could avail 
Who strove to stay 
The ebbing day, 
Or make an echo frail, 
Borne by the wind, 
Tarry behind ! — 
There is no way, no way 

That heart can find ! — 
How fast the visions fail ! 



25 



XXIV. 
HOPE 

FRAIL as a dew-web, spun 
In dusty grass, 
While swift cloud-shadows pass 
Before the sun. 

Fleet as a bird on wing 
Through the wide night, 
An instant poised in sight 

Ere vanishing. 



26 



XXV. 
THE OUT-GOING 

THE quivering leaves above 
Have ceased to move, 
Nor is the sudden silence stirred 
By note of bird. 

Why does the forest pause? 
What is it awes? 
A flower fallen in the grass ? — 
Or did joy pass? 



27 



XXVI. 

LORD Love, heed Thou my prayer 
Not yet, not yet, 
Till I forget to pray: 
Let me for get \ 
Till I shall ask of Thee 
A harder tning : 
Let me rejoice, rejoice 
Remembering ! 



28 



XXVII. 



RESPITE 



THE heart her sabbath kept, 
Her daily tasks put by; 
Unsung her ecstacy, 
Her wordless grief unwept. 

As one at pain's release, 
Ere joy again should sting 
Too deep for comforting, 

She kept the law of peace. 



29 



XXVIII, 

NEED went out a-seeking, 
Scarce knew what she sought 
Scattered is my treasure 
Far and wide, she thought. 

Love went forth to find her, 

Up and down the land, 
With her unknown treasure 

Hidden in his hand. 



30 



XXIX. 

EAGER is the crowded mart; 
Need and need meet and miss. 
Plentitude is in that heart, 
Poverty in this. 



**I have need." "I have store. 

''Give, for pity's sake ! '* 
''Greater mercy, I implore: 

O, in pity, take ! '* 



>» 



31 



XXX. 

UPON my hearth I found a fire 
I kindled not; 
It flashed, insistent as desire, 
About the barren spot. 

Henceforth my heart must guard the flame; 

I fear the gloom 
I knew not till the fire became 

Revealer of the room. 



32 



XXXI. 

I DARED to think it mine alone, 
Won in a solitary strife : 
From stranger-eyes the truth out-shone, 
Another soul revealed its own 
And shared my deeper life. 



33 



XXXII. 

ENTER not now! I would prepare 
some place, 
Make clean and sweet and beautiful a room 
Where we may know each other face to 

face, — 
And yet, O friend, since thou today art 

come. 
Thy presence be the purifying grace 
To render fit my home ! 



34 



XXXIII. 

LEST I too deep within his soul had 
seen 
What he had not yet known, 
The veil of self shut down our lives between, 
And each stood safe, alone . 



35 



XXXIV. 
TRIBUTE 

PRAISES for prophets by whose sight 
we see; 
Honors for heroes in whose might we win; 
Tenderer tribute to that brother be 
Whose deed reveals our uncommitted sin . 



36 



XXXV. 
THE VICTOR 

FROM unforgetting eyes 
Peer stricken memories 
Life was a braver thing 
Before this conquering. 



37 



XXXVI. 
IN PASSING 

A TIME-WORN face, 
With lines deep-set, — 
A face to pass and to forget. 
So commonplace ! 



But suddenly — 

The semblance gone 



A travailing soul I looked upon 
In passing by. 



38 



XXXVII. 
ANNUNCIATION. 

IN March, month of desire, 
The unseen wings 
Fan up the primal fire 
At heart of things. 

And fettered feet stand free, 

And the deaf hear 
From sealed lips, suddenly, 

A cry of — fear. 

For cruel keen the light. 

And harsh the air; 
Spring as a sword doth smite 

Earth unaware. 



39 



XXXVIII. 

JOY tangled up the weaving thread, 
As hands of strangers do; 
Flung to the winds the reel of red, 
And snarled the skein of blue. 

The careful pattern called content 
We wrought before Joy came 

Now hangs irreparably rent 
Upon its narrow frame. 

And Joy is fled ! Mayhap he weaves 

In beauty otherwhere; 
But unto us, alas, he leaves 

A problem of repair. 



40 



H 



XXXIX. 

USH not, O bird, for fear I guess 
And share your heart of hap- 
piness. 



O rose, you careless treasurer. 
From me your secret is secure. 

O hush not, hide not, fear not me; 
My joy is locked, withheld the key. 



41 



XL. 
THE INLAND ROAD 

ALONG an inland road I fare— 
O but my heart is otherwhere ! 
All day I hear a sea- wind blow. 
And feel the tides flood high, ebb low, 
And know the colors of the sky 
Beneath which the white sea-gulls fly; 
And, in a world of thee and me, 
I rest where cliffs reach out to sea. 
And watch, till miracle be done, 
Pursuing shadow, fleeing sun, 
The while, through these blind ways of 

dust, 
I go alone — because I must. 



42 



XLI. 

WHEN we have ceased to long for 
spring, 
Winter is past. 
Hearts that have finished hungering 
May feast at last. 

Death of desire shall soon or late 

Our need complete. 
Yet haste not, O insatiate, 

Desire is sweet. 



43 



XLII. 
THE SUDDEN HOUR 

OPEN roads beckon me 
Far, beyond sight; 
Empty hearths call to me 
For warmth and light. 

Others shall light the fire 
And find the home, 

Follow the wider roads, — 
I cannot come. 



44 



XLIII. 

TOMORROW and tomorrow stretch 
before 
And suramon from my door 
Your eager feet. I do not bid you stay, 
Straight Hes your way. 
Yet, as you go, unguessed within your 

eyes 
I see goodbyes 

Of yesterdays you cannot know, 
My yesterdays of long ago; 
And these, my answering tears that 

start, 
This ache of heart, 
This blessing on your dear unheeding 

head 
Are for my dead. 



45 



XLIV. 

LOVE said the perfect word 
Long, long ago, 
Changeless, the heart inferred; 
Life was to show 

How love could lose love's smile, 

Lack love's caress. 
Proving the long, long while 

Love's changelessness. 



46 



XLV. 

ONCE, while the unknown road 
We travelled side by side, 
A thought her light bestowed 
To be our guide. 

Now, lest this life should lack 
When parted ways there be, 

Always the thought leads back 
Again to thee. 



47 



XLVI. 

OLDER than Omar's long-spent 
spring 
The scent of roses hither blown, 
Intangible, unaltering 
Though hearts in dust go down. 

Frail sign of immortality. 
Fleeting, and yet forever part 
Of the imperious ecstacy 
Within earth's prisoned heart. 



48 



XLVII. 
THE EAST WIND 

TO hearts that wait 
Far from the place where they would 
be, 
I bring the message of the sea 
Across the marshes desolate; 
With mingled scent of salt and rain, 
With clouds of gray that sweep the sky 
I come to those who wait in vain, 
And question why. 
I tell of tides that to and fro 
On their appointed courses go 
In spite of calms or tempests high; 
Of the great depths that quiet lie 
The ever-restless waves below. 
I bring the message of the sea 
None but a patient heart may know. 
Is it for thee ? 



49 



XLVIII. 

A LITTLE while the storm we share, 
Fury of wave and wind-blown rain, 
Then, turning from the terror there, 
Seek shelter once again. 

Lest, in the tempest, from the soul 
The shreds of self be torn away 

We dare not listen to the Whole 
That Nature has to say. 



50 



XLIX. 

THE wind that stirs the clover-tops 
May speed a thunder cloud, 
The heart of power can be both 
So humble and so proud. 

And this that touches me todaj^— 

Mysterious as the wind — 
I marvel that it can at once 

Be terrible and kind. 



51 



L. 



WHITHER, O western wind, 
Speeding away 
Over the purpled sea 
At close of day? 

— 'Tis but a little world 

Winds blow about, 
And but a little way 

Souls venture out. — 

Seek ye the whitherward 

Beyond the sea? — 
Ah, but the whitherward 

The whence will be. 



52 



LI. 



BETWEEN low banks the brook flows 
on 

And bears me forth its gentle way; 
Nor fern nor twig nor hindering stone 
Our ceaseless pace can stay. 

The singing birds above me share 

My secret of unhasting flight, 
Buds lift as they become aware, 

Desire toward the light. 

So pass I onward to the sea, 
So in the bird song have I part, 

So spring wherever blossoms be 
The longings of my heart. 



53 



LII. 
THE PATH 

LONG since unknown, one did the field 
divide; 
Some eager human errand, sad or sweet, 
Made here this way of the forgotten feet, 
Wherein we also follow side by side. 



54 



LIII. 

THE burden of the heat upon me lay; 
**I will return,'' I said. 
**Long grasses in that morning meadow 
sway 
To cool my feet, my head." 

Beneath the burden of a wasted day 

Back to the field I went. 
There other hands that harvested the hay 

Reaped my long-sought content. 



55 



LIV. 
THE PLEASANT FIELD 

A PLEASANT field to man is lent 
Wherein to toil till Time be spent; 
In whose safe bosom, gently pressed, 
Sower and seed at last shall rest. 



56 



LV. 

SOMEWHERE our sunset makes the 
mom, 
A shadowed land awakes to Hght ; 
Beyond the west a day is bom 
From out our night. 

Day that it is not ours to know, 
Dawn, for us but a rosy past, 

Then a fast-fading afterglow, 
And dark, at last. 



57 



LVI. 

THE year fulfilled, unsorrowing 
November yieldeth all to death, 
But oh, the wistfulness of spring 
When the first blossom withereth ! 



58 



LVIL 
NOVEMBER 

THIS the morning after frost: 
Life no longer strives or clings; 
One by one, a leafy host 

Floats to earth on golden wings. 

While above, a far, faint blue 
Watches through the quiet air. 

Hope withheld and hope come true 
Sealed with silence everywhere. 



59 



LVIII. 

NATURE wearying of blossoms, 
In some latitudes 
Blights them with the snow and silence 
Of her winter moods. 

Ah, I falter at the question 

I am fain to ask, — 
Comes there unto hearts a season 

When love is a task? 



60 



LIX 
LOSS 

Tx\KE a bird song from the sumraer's 
Joyousness 
And none ever dream the chorus 
One voice less. 

But, amid the winter stillness 

Of the snows, 
When a sparrow ceases chirping, — 

Then one knows. 



61 



LX. 
WINTER RAIN 

TOO late to bless the fields now black 
and low 
With frozen need beyond thine utmost aid, 
Futile thou art, as love the living know 
Weeping a word delayed. 



62 



LXI. 

NOW is earth's day far spent; the night 
is near; 
Tremulous ecstacy of dawning spring 
And rapture of high summer, perfecting 
All promise in fulfilment, failing here, 
Let fall the moments of the waning year 
One after one ; passionless ruin hastes; 
Silent the Word, and ever beauty wastes 
In the pale presence of a peace austere. 

The mystery of darkness approacheth, 
And life, the terrible and exquisite, 
Withdrawing to the earth's unfathomed 
breast, 
Doth there endure the winter of this death, 
And weave anew, with yearning infinite, 
A garment for the Secret none hath 
guessed. 



63 



LXII. 

THIS a thought at summer's end: 
Seeds of summer make the spring 
Of the next year's blossoming. 

And beneath the wintry ways, 
Through the storm and stem delays, 
Love, unseen, lives on, O friend. 



64 



LXIII. 

r OVE is long though Time has wings! 

This the solace that Life brings 
Though it take a thousand things. 

In the silence or the song, 

Glad the thought and deep and strong 

Time is fleet but Love is long! 



65 



LXIV. 

THIS is the way the morning came 
There rose smiting wind, 
The sun flung out a torch of flame, 
And Love a word did find , 

This is the way the morning came : 

Across the brooding sea 
I breathed toward the sun thy name 

And blessed the day to thee . 



66 



LXV. 
A DEMAND 

HEART-ROOM here where Love has 
hid— 
Unexplained, as best things are ! — 
Shall the fields a flower forbid, 
Or the skies exclude a star? 



67 



LXVI. 

THE world is all unworthy of its June 
Till June herself complete 
The beauty of the sky our heads above, 

The beauty at our feet. 
I tremble lest I claim a joy too soon, 

Daring to love thee, Sweet, 
Yet how may life be worthier of love 
Till love and life shall meet? 



68 



LXVII. 

GIFT and giver, Love, thou art ! 
At the touch of spring 
Birds find voice and petals part 
For thy worshipping. 

Love that bloometh for a day, 

Love of briefest song, 
Each makes beautiful the way, 

And the way is long ! 

Hiding in the heart of each 

Seeds of the To-be, 
Love in all her words would teach 

Immortality. 



69 



LXVIIL 
SECRETS 

IF you know wherefore a flower 
Turns toward the sun, 
What the petals close to cover 
When the day is done, 

As possessor of these secrets 

Of the scent and dew, 
You may guess the heart-deep reason 

That I turn to you. 



70 



LXIX. 
VALENTINES 



HE who says: ''One robin 
Doesn't make a spring," 
Filled with too much learning 
Knows not anything ! 

Wiser he, who hearing 

Robin's call — or thine — 
Sets the heart-door swinging, 

Waits no second sign. 

II 

A GARDEN brave with fir and pine, 

In February stirred 
By a new note, the prophet sign 

Of joy beyond all word ! 
O if that garden-heart were mine 

And thou the singing bird ! 



71 



LXX. 

SEE, the limits of the nest 
Wing the flight; 
Blossoms, by their buds oppressed, 
Claim the light. 

Little self, wilt thou come forth ? 

Life is wide; 
That which would complete thy worth 

Waits outside. 



72 



LXXI. 
A REBUKE 

AS if a rose should question 
Because it grew so slow ! 
Impatient little flower, 
It is not thine to know 
Appointed times and seasons, — 
Thy duty is to grow. 

For, if too soon thou bloomest, 
The tempest winds that blow 
May spoil thy fragrant beauty 
And lay thy petals low, 
Then one who cometh after 
Without his rose would go. 



73 



LXXII. 

OH, it is poverty indeed 
To have not for another's need ! 
But thou art rich whose love can bless 
Another life with happiness. 



74 



LXXIII. 
A MEMORY 

THE white road from the harbor town 
Mid-morning, and July; 
Cloudless the sun that would smite down 
Such timid folk as I. 

A thought beyond are shadowed lane, 
And wave-cooled shore, and sea; 

But I go the white road again, 
With the old fear on me. 



75 



LXXIV. 
THE DARK SEA 



INCALCULABLE currents and strange 
tides 
Have swept thee forth on self's uncharted 

sea; — 
No otherwhere in all the world besides 
So cruel far could be. 



Thought cannot reach thee; unavailing 

love 
Through the great dark uplifts a torch in 

vain. 
What word shall on these wastes of being 

move 
To bring thee light again? 



76 



LXXV. 
DISTANCES 

WE marvel that the Silence can divide 
The living from the dead ; yet more 
apart 
Are they who all life long dwell side by side 
But never heart by heart. 



77 



LXXVI. 

VOICELESS the solitudes that inter- 
vene: 
Soul unto soul in separated light 
Answers across the mystery of Night 
As star to star, a great gulf set between. 



78 



LXXVII. 

HOW far is it from heart to heart? 
So near it is — so near 
That all of time the Present is 
And every place is Here, 

And yet, sometimes, from heart to heart 

It is as far — as far 
As to unmeasured distances 

Beyond the dimmest star. 



79 



LXXVIII. 
THE MEMORIAL BY F. DUVENECK. 

THOU didst not know it was for this 
that Life, 
The mighty sculptor, made thee beautiful, 
And chiselled thee with keen-edged joy and 

pain 
Unto the type of perfect womanhood ; 
That when on quiet feet, on pulseless 

breast, 
Should gently lie the victor-palm of peace, 
Thou mightest waken in the artist's love 
The power to show immortal purity 
Unto a weary, sinning world of men. 



80 



LXXIX, 

PRAYER 

I COME to Thee for aid; 
Thou puttest shadows by. 
Filled by Thy presence, Lord, 
What lesser need have I ! 



81 



LXXX. 

UNFATHOMED space 
And farthest thought 
God's power doth enfold; 
To earthly ways 
His love hath brought 
The beauty we behold. 

Lest we forget 

How great He is 

There wait the sky and sea. 

A violet 

His tenderness 

Reveals to you and me. 



82 



LXXXI. 
TE DEUM LAUDAMUS 

FROM the depths of color, 
From the heart of tone, 
From the sculptured marble 
And the builded stone 
Soars the great Te Deum 
Art hath always known. 



83 



LXXXII. 

WE measure off God's wide eternity 
By weeks and months and years; 
and it is well : 
So do we build these houses where we dwell 
Because we cannot bear the mysterious sky. 

But we who breathe illimitable air, 
On whom the light of unknown stars de- 
scends, — 
Ours are the small beginnings and the ends. 
There are no God-placed limits anywhere. 



84 



B 



LXXXIII. 

UILD as we may we shall not reach the 

sky; 

Oiir little arches bend forever low 
Beneath the eternal arch that curves on 

high, 
Above the eternal depths we do not 

know. 



85 



LXXXIV. 

" J WILL not lose Thee, Lord," I cried, 

In fear and pride. 
And then — as far as soul could see — 
Around my little doubt and me 

The universe grew wide ! 
"I cannot lose Thee, Lord," I cried, 
"There is nor land nor sky nor sea 
That is not wholly filled by Thee!" 



86 



LXXXV. 

SO wide the sky ! 
So small am I ! 
So great Thou art, 
O Loving Heart, 
No life can be 
Outside of Thee. 



87 



LXXXVI. 
ELUSIVE 

A WHITE cloud faded against the blue, 
And my heart grew silent as the sky. 
So faint, so far ! yet I nearly knew 
The thought that passed me by ! 



88 



LXXXVII. 
DREAMS 

INTANGIBLE existences, 
That fade and are forgot; 
Without a past; whose future is 
Waking to what is not. 



89 



LXXXVIII. 
THE TRAVELERS 

ALONG the safe white path of day 
The busy thoughts go on their way. 
But dreams, day-hidden, wander far 
From unknown star to unknown star. 



90 



LXXXIX. 

AS to deep notes of music 
The over-tones reply 
And wing their way to heaven, 
Rising inaudibly. 

So spirit answers spirit, 
So thou, O note divine, 
Hast waked a higher vision 
Within this heart of mine. 



91 



xc. 

A WHITE MOMENT 



ABOUT the swooning self the senses 
fling 
Their sheltering dulness to restore my sight, 
Excess of beauty is a fearful thing, 
And I was lost in light. 



92 



XCI. 

LITTLE Questions, you are 
blind; 
You would be 
Answers I am fain to find 
Could you see. 

Light, the miracle, delays; 

You must grow 
To a wider wonder-place 

Ere I know. 



93 



XCII. 
TO CLEMENT OF ALEXANDRIA 

LATEST, least of kinsmen, I; 
Yet, O father, as I read 
Ancient answer to my need 
Can I heritage deny? 

Flashed thy thought in pulse of flame 

Once far centuries ago, 

Calling whom thou didst not know; 
Late I came. 



94 



XCIII. 
LABORERS 

AS the Pattern doth allow, 
From the substance of the heart, 
Brother Spider, I and thou 
Labor at the loom of Art. 

Weave to perfect form a thought. 

Clothe eternity in time. 
Little brother, so are wrought 

Worlds, a fragile web, a rhyme. 



95 



XCIV. 

A BARREN little muse, December 
born, 
Most quickened by gray weather and the 

wind, 
Silenced by sunshine and a bit forlorn, — 
x\s too-bright happiness leaves hope be- 
hind. 

She turns toward the light she knows not 

yet, 
From out the shelter of the dusk she knows; 
Her climbing feet unto the hills are set. 
Upon whose stony ways the great wind 

blows. 



96 



xcv. 

LIFE 

UNCOUNTED days, as like as pearl 
to pearl, 
Strung on the silver thread of memory; 
Days of the changeless, everchanging sea 
Pulsing within the being of the girl, 

Waking, the woman to the mystery 
Of life that alters ever, yet abides. 
Set to the rhythm of the ceaseless tides; 
Days of the white roads hedged with 
bayberry; 
Of stony fields and footways in the grass, — 
A sweet monotony through which to pass. 
Until, at last, when finished are the years, 
To one dear road as dust to dust to come; 
Beside the pines the heart to find a home; 
The wise sea to take back life's hopes and 
fears. 



97 



XCVI. 
A REMINDER 

BROUGHT by the wind, 
Sent by the tree,— 
Bright little leaf, 
Is your message for me? 

Soft is the sound, 

Light is the touch, — 

Flutter to earth 

Lest you tell me too much ! 



98 



XCVII. 

OCTOBER clover, 
Belated bee, 
For you and me, 
Summer is over. 

The days are fleeter 
And blossoms few, 
Yet (if bees knew ! ) 

Late joy's the sweeter ! 



99 



XCVIII. 

I PLANNED to help the sun arise; 
But as I slumbered came the day. 
Not mine to lighten heavy eyes 
And put the dark away. 

Omnipotence I thought to aid : 
While yet my eager hands were still 

The morning that I had not made 
Brought blessing for the will. 



100 



XCIX. 
AT SUNRISE IN DECEMBER 

THE summer had no glory keen as this. 
Earth is transfigured, white and 
glistering. 
Blue is the living sea, blue, passionate 
And terrible, alert with sudden waves 
That, crystal-capped, before the north 

wind run; 
Across the ice-bound marsh, on the low 

hills, 
The cedars, like enchanted warriors, 
Lift their dark spears, erect and motion- 
less; 
From hidden hearths, the iridescent smoke 
Bears witness to an unseen human toil; 
The cloudless winter sky is over all. 
And in the heart there stirs a sense of 

things 
Beyond life's knowledge and experience, 
Too beautiful for grief, too strange for joy. 



101 



c. 

"FEAR NO MORE THE HEAT O' THE 

SUN" 

I CAN be glad the unspent body dies, — 
I can be glad, at last ! 
Not thine, not thine those tired feet that 

passed, 
Not thine th' age-stricken eyes. 



102 



CI. 



*^WITH WHAT BODY DO THEY 
COME ? " 

SOMETIMES in sudden light from other 
eyes; 
Sometimes in breaking bread; in touch, in 

tone; 
Presences of the way; voice of new skies; — 
Lo, we have felt and known. 



103 



CII. 

THE STRONG SOUL 

STILL is the winner greater than the 
prize, 
The loser than the loss; 
So like the twain, that Life fulfils, denies, 
And crowns upon a Cross. 



104 



cm. 

" MINE HOUR IS NOT YET COME " 

THERE was a marriage-day in Galilee, 
When love by Love was blessed; 
He brought a gift of goodly wine, for He 
Was Wedding Guest. 

THE HOUR 

THERE was a Chamber in Jerusalem 
Where Love the Uttermost 
Made for His friends a Feast, and gave to 
them 
Himself, the Host. 



105 



CIV. 
FLIGHT 

COME/' said the rock, ^'and watch 
the flight of things/' 

So, all the summer's day, I watched the 
world 

From an Unseen Pursuer flee away : 

The tide that sought the shore, that fled 
the shore; 

The keening sea-gulls flying to the south, 

Circling the harbor to the north again; 

The clouds that scattered, faded, dis- 
appeared, 

Swept by the winds, themselves an un- 
known will; 

The ceaseless moments one by one that 
passed ; 

The sun, the shadow, without resting- 
place; — 

Even as I watched the miracle of change 

'Twas I that changed, and self that fled 
away. 



106 



cv. 



LIGHT-HEART, how well do I remem- 
ber thee ! 
So little didst thou know, so wise thou 

wert I 
For thee the universe contained no hurt, 
Thou child of spring, of dawn, of sunny 

skies ! 
To darkness and to evil thou didst sleep ; 
That others wept, that thou thyself might 'st 

weep — 
Unreal as the rain before the day 
In April, or December yet to be ! 
Light-heart, how didst thou waken? I 

forget. 
Didst see that other eyes with tears were 

wet? 
Didst question what the meaning of the 

woe 
That kindred hearts, but thine not yet, 

must know? 
What shape had dread? And how, at 

length, did fear 
To thee draw near? 



107 



O Light-heart, Light-heart, Hght-heart 

nevermore, 
Who art thou to be merely heavenly- wise ? 
Companioned on the long and shadowed 

way, 
There is a multitude that goes before. 



108 



CVI. 

COLD keen wind from the northwest 
blowing, 
Firm against my forehead, smoothing back 

my hair, 
Like a firm hand pressing with a strength 

unwounding 
The impatient body stayed by power of 
the air; 

Lonely I grow for sight of homing ships at 

sunset, 
For harbor, and for beacon lighted under 

darkening sky; 
Northwest wind blowdng over troubled 

water, 
Keen as memory thou art, and sad am L 



109 



evil. 

SUNLIGHT IN THE ROOM 

SECRET and still, along the wall and 
floor 
Insistent, unreplying sunlight lies. 
Shadow has form, but, terrible and white, 
No shape or sound has Light, 
Only the open door, through which there 

pour 
Radiant mysteries . 



110 



CVIII. 

THE WITNESSES 

WHO speak no word, 
Who summon not by gesture or by- 
touch, 
Who stay not eager hands or straying feet, 
Who hinder not the deed that is our will ; 
Who wait, who watch; 
Who pause with us at parting of the ways, 
Who take with us whichever road we 

choose, 
Who go with us as love goes to the end. 



Ill 



CIX. 

SONGS at the spring 
When the year is new, 
And at harvesting 

While there's work to do. 

When joy is past, 
And labor through, 

Silence at last 
For me, for you. 



112 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Oct. 2009 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 



}r!Bf}^^^ ^^ CONGRESS 



018 360 185 4 



I 



